


Bitter x Sweet

by PinkAfroPuffs



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Chocolate, Coffee, Established Relationship, F/M, Valentine's Day Fluff, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: What is sweeter than coffee but more bitter than wine? Love, of course. Two cups of coffee, one box of chocolates, and a postcard."You are a fool," says the avatar of vengeance. But what he means is that she is his fool.
Relationships: Edmond Dantès | Avenger/Fujimaru Ritsuka
Kudos: 24





	Bitter x Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines'! This is a commission for panyum on tumblr, with Ayako and Dantes! I hope that you enjoy it very much!!!!

“Alright, the first batch is ready.”

She had been working all night on them, but most of the chocolates were finally done. Valentines’ Day seemed to have come early this year, what with the hustle and bustle of the new year, and even though it was technically a fake holiday, Ayako knew that each of her friends in Chaldea would be expecting one. There was no reason why she would want to disappoint them, either. It was a holiday about love, after all- and she loved each and every one of them, from the most fucked up to the least.

Emiya was hefting that first batch up to his chest, which was a huge, marked crate with the word CHOCOLATE on top, in big, bold letters to distinguish it from the others in the kitchen. Each box inside the crate had its own name with homemade chocolates inside, which were then separated into class categories. Afterwards, every box was given colors- of which there were ten (or eleven, including BB), denoting the class, in case someone got confused. 

It was all very meticulous and orderly (mostly because of Emiya’s supervision- though Ayako wasn’t necessarily _dis_ organized, she had her own way of doing things, and this was not it), down to the boxes labelled “human staff” and “magic staff”- branded as such because of Ayako’s own inclination not to call them ‘Servants’, as it made the line between them more concrete than it should have been. Who knew that simple shapes still took a lot of work if you made enough of them?

“I’ve got the others down pat,” Emiya sounded a bit tired, but happy, a pleased sort of grin on his face as he checked the list he was holding. He looked remarkably good in an apron for a man who was used to combat- but Ayako thought that about many other “magical staff members”, and didn’t think it anything special. Besides, her type was more...French. “Cat has the Alter Egos and Casters, Kiyohime the Berserkers and Lancers, Ms. Beni-enma with Sabers and Riders, and I’ve finished Archers and Assassins. Are you almost done with the Extra Classes?” 

She blinked a few times, tired eyes barely meeting the Archer’s own as she focused on the task in front of her. Fresh wounds wrapped in smiley-face bandages hid the discoloration on her hands from previous battles; despite surviving the incineration of humanity and all the miscellaneous problems to come with it, somehow she was still getting new cuts and bruises from silly things, like making chocolate. Chocolate. Ugh. The thought made her a bit grumpy.

“Uhhhm.” Ayako narrowed her eyes on her project, bangs now wet with sweat and sticking closely to the bridge of her nose. Most assuredly it was unhygienic, as she kept wiping her brow with the hand she was making chocolate with, but that was also why her hands were dry from over-washing them to compensate. “Maybe. Not yet.” Making chocolate from scratch had actually been a lot of fun- for the boxes with chocolate for other Servants. But this last one was...special. And not going right. Her hands steady on the ziploc bag, she bit down on her lower lip _just_ a bit as she focused on carefully filling the tiny, heart shaped mold on the table… _Slowly, slowly…_

...and then overfilled it. Again. 

A deep breath. Then, angrily she threw down the bag and groused, “Screw this! I fucking hate chocolate!”

The red-coated archer extended a dexterous hand to her, an all-to0 pleased smile on his face as he knew he’d do a good job. “May I?”

For a very long time, she stared at that hand. Brain buffering at the implications of it, she found herself stuck in that position for a while, eyes low but pupils dilated at the temptation being offered to her. Though Ayako had mixed and started filling the other chocolates by herself, the kitchen staff had shooed her off and taken over once they’d seen her drooping from exhaustion. Though she wasn’t _completely_ lazy, she _had_ put in a lot of effort before then but...well, she also _was_ a little lazy. And making sweets was by no means a walk in the park.

Looking at him now, she knew Emiya would give her an easy out for this task, even though it seemed impossible- he loved to cook, to bake, to do...whatever it was they were doing with these chocolates, right down to cooling them, and he did it well, but….she found herself shaking her head, sucked in a strained breath, and plainly said, “Thanks. But I have to do it myself.”

He smiled warmly at her before a sneaky sort of grin pulling at his lips. It made her scrunch her nose at him before his answer made her a tiny bi violent, as it was, “These are for Avenger, aren’t they?”

Redness overtook her cheeks, hot and quick like a pot boiling over. “Shh!” Her eyes squeezed shut, shoulders suddenly rigid at the horrifying image of Dantes finding out about her gift long before she was ready to give it to him. Usually she wasn’t surprised by his presence; despite dwelling in the shadows (often her own) and the vents, she knew him well enough to be sure he’d at least give her personal space when she asked. Still, she said, “He might hear you.”

Emiya seemed a little tickled by this and only closed his eyes. “I see. Well, if you need me to do the rest of the chocolates while you focus on this one, I’d be happy to.”

“Thanks…” Came her response, but her voice died down into nothing. How embarrassing… She also had to hurry, for the most part. The Count was quite picky when it came to her staying up all night- as sleeplessness seemed almost her hobby at this point. 

By the time she’d perfected the chocolates enough to put them in the fridge, she was exhausted. There was still the matter of the packaging and that other thing she’d been thinking of to boot. 

“Ugh!” She groaned aloud, laying on the table. “I can’t do this.”

No! She could. She _would_. 

...after a quick nap. Yes, after a quick nap and some sweets, she could finish her work. Especially when the floor looked so inviting…

The bare palms of her now-dry hands smacked her cheeks. If she didn’t finish it now, it would never be done on time, and sleep was a sacrifice she was willing to make. 

...but she’d also sit down for this part. Pulling up her chair, she rolled up her sleeves, tied her hair up high, and nodded to herself as she picked up a postcard, pen, and colored ink. “Second wind,” she determined. If one could see her expression, it was impressively fierce as she sharply inhaled through her nose. “Here we go.”

* * *

The Count of Monte Cristo’s chocolate was more than just special. Though it had taken hours to get the packaging just right, Ayako enjoyed putting on the minute finishing touches, wrapping the box once and then twice in black-glazed tin foil, complete with a little black hat on top, made out of paper mache. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes, mentally patting herself on the back for it as she rubbed the three bars on her wrist for comfort- and then realized it all would mean nothing if it never got to him.

The young Master couldn’t ask another Servant to do it; that would be rude, and besides she and Avenger were close. As her first- and favorite- Servant, he deserved to receive it from her in person, but there was a huge problem with that, one Ayako herself didn’t feel comfortable admitting to out loud:

The whole ordeal was too embarrassing.

She put the heels of her hands on her eyes and sighed loudly, shoulders slumping. It wasn’t even that the Count was the teasing type- though he wasn’t above it- it was just that the more Ayako thought about it, the more embarrassing it seemed. Just thinking about what he would say, how he would look when he saw it- his wolfish grin, his dark chuckle, his amused air of smoke and sarcasm- they all made her frown, at the humiliation they held. Oh, but it was Valentines! She would...plan it out or something. Somehow. 

With this, she began her quest. Bandaged hands turned the box around before she held it behind her back. She checked “Smoking”, “Non-Smoking” and “Sometimes Smoking” lounges, heart thrumming in her chest in anticipation before she finally found Dantes on the opposite side of the hall, exiting the Writers’ Room. For once luck was on her side; she didn’t have to do any maneuvers to make sure he didn’t see the box, as he’d made a point to put out his cigarette when she’d come into view. 

He looked quite handsome from the side; he usually looked quite handsome, but the wisps of his curly white hair peeked from beneath his hat, the gold of his irises glittering in the fluorescent light as he turned to look at her. _More_ handsome would have suited the idea. _Very_ handsome. Too handsome. Frustratingly so. His eyebrows went up only a little upon seeing her, as though to ask, ‘You asked for me?’ though she obviously had not. 

Covertly, her eyes darted left and right, and then back and front, before she took one hand from behind her back and gestured to him. “Count, come closer.”

Curious, he did so. Though his plainly unreadable expression did not change, his head tilted just barely to one side, though she stopped him with that free hand before gesturing again to _come nearer_ and shook her head.

“Closer.” 

Obviously amused, a smile quirked to one side of his mouth. A single step. He was playing with her again, but all she could think was _almost_ , almost.

“A little more, now.” She was no good at measuring distances, but he was getting so close she was almost losing her nerve. “You’ve almost got it.”

He obliged, sliding his shoes across the tiled floor for extra measure.

A little smug, she said, “...now bend down. I can’t reach you all the way up there.” Then she even threw in a little huff for extra measure, feigning annoyance, both hands behind her back again. 

“Mm,” he said, leaning so far down that their noses were almost touching, eyes lidded low as he studied her, the shine of gold the only light between them under the shadow of his hat. “Is this close enough, _mademoiselle_?”

Ayako pursed her lips. For a moment, she swallowed, unable to speak, and then in a very practiced (though unfortunately clumsy) fashion, she gave him a peck on the lips, shoved the little black box into his chest, and turned tail to run- or, well. Tried to, before he quickly grasped her sleeve to make sure she couldn’t escape. 

Damn him! She always forgot how fast he was, and now her face was burning!

His grip on her loosened once he realized she wasn’t going to run away, his hand sliding to his side. Gingerly, he brushed across the little hat decoration with his thumb. Unbeknownst to her, he pondered the all-too-familiar taste of her lips; how quaint to have only enjoyed it for a moment, but surprises were often so. His eyes flickered to her and then back to the box, his hat casting a shadow over his face somewhat intentionally.

She waited, the back of her hand stubbornly rubbing at one cheek still hot with embarrassment. His own hand lifted to his chin, rubbing what would have been stubble were he not a clean-shaven man, and then golden irises met her own. After a beat, he asked a very sharp, “What is this?”

Ayako was almost too dumbstruck to respond. “C-Choco? Chocolate…” Came the response, though her voice faded into a mumble as she said so. 

A thought clearly crossed his mind; careful not to disturb the decorations and careful wrapping paper, he opened the box to reveal the chocolates.

He watched as something fluttered out, though he was quick to pluck it out of the air just before it hit the ground. In a very precise motion, he flipped it right-side up. 

A cream colored postcard emblazoned with a rose-tinted calico cat- who was surrounded by a red heart with white fringe- squinted up at him. As it seemed the cat had sniffed something it didn’t like, its little calico face was scrunched up in distaste (or maybe cute disdain?), framed only by the words “U ANNOY ME” above it and “BUT I LOVE YOU ANYWAY” below it.

On each opposite corner was written, ‘To Dantes. From Ayako.’

“And this?” He held up the card for her to see it clearly, eyes bearing no hint of amusement nor malice. 

“A postcard,” she responded plainly, her wits coming back to her as she took a deep breath and stood up straight, arms crossed over her chest. “If you don’t want it, you can give it back-” But she didn’t _want_ it back. In fact, she desperately wanted him to say so.

As though on cue, he pulled the card away from her and back to his chest, a little grin crackling across his face. Amusement danced across the white of his eyelashes all the way down to his mouth, though surprisingly he did not smile. Against the sanitized color of the halls, he stood out very sharply; like a very stubborn black spot of soot, his silhouette impressed on the walls when he moved his cloak flowed in a wraith-like manner, although there was no wind. Although this was the norm with the Count, on an occasion like this, Ayako noticed it more than she noted the beating of her own heart as his eyes drifted back down to the package.

“Ah.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, the most serene she had ever seen him. “So it is today.” The Avenger hummed to himself, thoughtful as his eyes closed and he raised the postcard to his lips with a gentle hum. A pleased, soft pink tinted his fair skin- or maybe it was a trick of the light and Ayako was imagining things again.

After a moment of losing himself in thought, he carefully re-opened the package, inspected one of the chocolates, and then carefully bit into one. 

No response. Ayako waited for his deliberation, clutching her own wrist in anticipation. “Do they taste good? 

“Did you plan this?” He asked plainly. 

“What? Of course I did,” embarrassing as it might be, it was best to own up to it.

“...I see.” He hummed again, closing his eyes. Then, “Do you realize what this means?”

Confused but not wanting to admit she was, Ayako said, “Yes?”

The Avenger finally smiled. His face hovered near hers as he leaned to her height again, his crooked grin muted upon his lips. “You dare lie to me?” And then matter-of-factly, to make sure she understood, “It means you are a fool.” 

In the same fashion as she had, he gave her a quick peck on the lips before he tilted his hat down by the brim to conceal his eyes; the ghost of a smile brushed past his mouth again, though for only a second before the corporeal form of Edmond Dantes went up into nothing but smoke, and disappeared into the faculty vents.

* * *

The actual day of Valentines was very close but far from that particular occasion; Ayako and some of the Servants more interested in cooking than fighting had been preparing it for at least the entire week before it, and while handing them out was one sort of ordeal, receiving them was quite another. There were some people in Chaldea who’d decided they would not wait for Valentines’ or White Day- that is, the day in which, in some countries, a return gift is given- and would barrage her or corner her in different parts of the compound, including her own room. There was, however, one solace in this; they had enough respect to not go into her art room. 

Ayako slumped into her chair. For a holiday about love, it sure took a lot out of her. Or maybe that was simply the way things were, and the way they should be. Love did have weight, after all.

She sighed, sliding all the way down in that chair, her head tilted up to the ceiling as she propped her head against the back. A little relief coursed through her as she closed her eyes. She’d gotten the Count his gift first. The thought made her smile. Though she didn’t know where he was now- or where he’d been since then- she tried not to think about what he could possibly say to her the next time they saw each other. 

Well. She didn’t have to worry about it now. Once a blue moon she got the idea to take a nap, and even though that plastic chair was uncomfortable for her back and shoulders, she could feel her eyes sliding shut as she heaved a sigh and dozed off. 

Darkness swam before her eyes. She found herself on a familiar beach with white, sandy shores- though this time the ocean before her was candy pink. Curious, she dipped a hand in it, finger by finger- until she realized that the goop was sticky and smelled like medicine. 

_Master, Master, please take these from me! You don’t have to eat them._

But she did have to eat those chocolates, sometimes directly in front of them. Bunyan had even come with pancakes that were larger than her whole body and looking at them made her sicker than she’d ever been. It had been luck that the giant was more hungry than herself at the time and finished them for her. 

She glanced around. Sounds on whispering winds caught her ears like mice in falcon’s talons. The pink mush began bubbling at the surface and she drew back; faces in the muck called out to her, asking her for chocolate, giving her chocolate, expecting her to eat each and every one-

This wasn’t funny, but she’d had enough traumatic nightmares to wait for it to become funny. Her lips curled up at their corners; hands reached from the bubblegum ocean and she covered her mouth. A chalky smell came with it, too sweet and not sweet enough- nauseating, if she were awake. But she was not. Instead her nose only burned, the sleeve of her right hand covering her nostrils for some reprieve. 

Ah, she missed him. She missed the dark and the beach at night with an Avenger who wouldn’t be separated from his pool floatie. Usually he’d show up around now to whisk her away or help her fight off her nightmares- whatever flavor they were in for the night. 

...where was he, anyway?

She didn’t expect anything in return for her chocolate- no, that wasn’t true. She did expect something, but she also didn’t want anything from him. Her feelings reaching him was the most important thing. They knew one another by now. To affirm things that are true, especially in such troubling times was worth more than its weight in gold- or so the Count would say. 

The water turned black. Then red. Then blue. Her eyes swam at the colors, a sickened curiosity begging her to reach out for the ones poking up from the surface of the liquid, and her fingers inched closer to hands that would inevitably pull her down into it to swallow her up-

“Ayako.”

Her eyes shot open. It was an immediate mistake; stars danced before her eyes, exploding dark blobs of blue and red as her vision adjusted to the light. She sucked in a breath, suddenly groggy, shielding her face with one hand as she groaned. “Mm…”

“Though you seemed to be sleeping soundly,” came the voice, “you torture yourself with that atrocious chair. I do not apologize for depriving you of that.”

She blinked twice: once to see where she was, and then twice to understand _why_ she was there. Her hands grasped clean bed sheets- her own, meaning this had to be her room- and though she barely moved, she pushed up on her elbows to sit up and see the man whose voice carried despite its softness.

He was sitting by her bed, eyes unblinking as he scrutinized her from his place, gloved hands on what seemed to be a french press. Eyes then lowering to his task, he poured in the hot water, the aroma of it so strong and so _sweet_ it nearly lifted her out of bed. Two matching cups sat before him, as well as a small container of cream and sugar. He poured each cup very slowly- with care, she decided- before he leaned back. Hands on the table, he raised his eyes to her, and then, very softly, “Do you intend to lie in bed all day?”

At first, she was going to ask what he would do if she did, but her eyes were on the cups. A little sore from being moved, she rolled onto her side and sat up, inching closer to the table, careful not to get her blue skirt caught in between the two. Without asking as much, her hand hovered over one of the two cups of coffee...before she reached for the cream and sugar to make it to her own liking.

He did not stop her- no, in fact he smiled at her gesture, as it was the norm. Still, when she looked up to see his expression, he was no longer smiling. Instead, he said, “Though you are a fool for giving the avatar of vengeance a gift,” his eyes closed, “he must repay you in kind.” Another smile, though this had a certain edge to it. “Is it to your liking, Ayako?”

She took a deep drink from her cup. A hum escaped her as she sighed, his eyes still on her as he watched her drink more than half of the cup in one go- a nice reprieve, she realized, from all that too-sweet (and sometimes too bitter) chocolate, that also warmed her stomach. 

She peeked over the cup at him. “Thanks.” Into her cup, she murmured, “You were late again.”

His head tilted a bit to one side, a little grin passing over his lips. “So I was.” He shifted his weight over the table. “This wraith was so concerned with this gift that he neglected his promise....” A slightly embarrassed sigh escaped him as he leaned towards her. After waiting a minute, he raised his eyebrows to her. “Well, Ayako? How shall I make it up to you?”

Ayako’s eyebrows knit together, her bangs momentarily falling into her eyes. A little confused, she said, “You don’t have-”

Smoothly, the Avenger put his finger to her lips, suddenly upon her in an instant. “Ah, what discerning tastes,” he continued, “asking me to spend the night with you in exchange! It costs me nothing at all to grant such a simple wish, as defender of your dreams and keeper of your nightmares!”

Her cheeks colored just slightly; pink and a little hot from the caffeine, she nodded her head slowly to agree, a wicked smile breaking across his face as she’d decided to play along. 

“I ask only one question of you, then,” he continued, close enough to kiss, a somewhat pleased twinkle in his eye, “would you like the lights on,” a hum, “or off?”

For a moment she simply cleared her throat. Hoping to seem mature about the idea, Ayako licked her lips and paused, tasting the last bit of sweetened French coffee. Her own hands tangled in the Count’s silver hair as bits of heat came off of him in smoldering black waves, like a blissfully dark night, before she breathed, “Off.”


End file.
